Chasing Shadows
by Raven Jadewolfe
Summary: Four years after fleeing the country in order to protect her companions and friends from the Crows, a Grey Warden apostate finally returns to Ferelden and her life as a Grey Warden. Sequel to Elgaren Dar Dorf: Ghosts of the Grey. Read that story first or you will be lost! Language/Violence/lemony limey bits
1. Prologue

**Well, you guys finally talked me into attempting a sequel for Ghosts of the Grey, hopefully you'll enjoy it :-)**

**And yes, still using Italian for Antivan and Irish Gaelic for Chaisnd. Any words in elvish that I could not find in the DA wiki, I substituted with Tolkien elvish. What better substitute than the original Elven language?**

**I own no copyrighted material.**

A white mabari bounces around the woman's bare and scarred feet as she descends the wooden plank and finally returns to dry land for the first time in a month. The docks, even at this early hour, teem with life as she pauses to adjust the tattered black hood covering her short snowy hair.

"Pazienza," she murmurs at the canine each time she doesn't move quickly enough for the beast and he barks his ardor to continue their journey.

The mixed odors of fish rot and sewage are left behind as the pair exit the port district and the once familiar smells of Ferelden begin to invade their nostrils.

She gently chides the dog when he makes a great show of sneezing, then stops to paw at his muzzle as he keens a complaint,"Questo è meglio che la barca," though her eyes still glimmer with a touch of amusement when her companion makes a point to whine and sneeze a second, then third, time before trotting after her.

A guardsman out patrolling catches her just outside of the city gates and seems to find little trouble in calling the woman a knife ear as he interrogates her.

Until she reveals herself as a Grey Warden, that is. His fretful apologies resound in her ears long after he has fled from her sight.

Upon leaving both Amaranthine and its inhabitants at her back, the woman takes a moment to assure herself that none are paying attention to her, then ducks into a copse of trees scattered along the cobblestone highway. A minute later, a silvery fox darts out from the brambles, a scarred white mabari following at its heels.

The days fly by as the beasts race passed farmers tending their crops, handfuls of armed travelers plodding along on horseback, and an unusual amount of guards patrolling the roads.

Soon though the mountain air floating down the passes chills the air at night, forcing the fox and the mabari to curl around one another for added warmth.

They are getting close.

Two weeks have come and gone by the time the spires of Wardens Keep begin cutting a sharp relief into the Ferelden skyline. The impressive vision incites a slew of mixed emotions in the pair, but the option to turn back has long since evaporated.

The animals skirt around the ancient fortress and slip in through a hidden side entrance. The fox guides the mabari into the stables where they take refuge in a disused stall.

No one sees the fox shimmer and elongate into a violet eyed woman with white hair and elven features.

She wordlessly gathers soap and a large bucket of water-which she heats with a small runestone-then hastily scrubs the grime from herself and her four legged friend.

Pale skin, crisscrossed with scars and dark ink, is covered in supple black leather armor that drinks in the dull afternoon light. With a grimace, she dons her boots before adding her tattered cloak and a faceless helm. A mace with an amethyst head and a Ferelden style dagger are the final additions, then she hefts her pack onto her shoulder and saunters out of the barn.

Grey Wardens training in the courtyard pay her little attention as she pads by and ascends the stone stairwell that takes her to the main entrance of the castle.

Inside, a young guard puts a hand out to bar her from advancing farther into the compound. "State your business please."

She blows out a loud sigh of irritation, then tugs open a bracer to reveal the Warden's Oath chained to her wrist. "The Warden Commander is expecting me," she states, her accented tone almost lyrical despite the hidden warnings in it.

The elven woman bows and retreats from the archway, "My apologies sister. The Warden Commander should still be in his office on the third floor, go right up."

"Grazie sorella," the elf blood murmurs, then waves for the mabari to follow her into the next chamber.

As they navigate the castle, they walk by an ornate fireplace that is covered with bleached skulls of varying shapes, sizes, and species. It takes a massive effort to smother the smile that threatens to take over when she discovers the enormous dragon skull that appears to be the centerpiece of the macabre display.

Finding the correct path that takes her upward, she can hear the Warden Commander arguing with someone as she and her canine companion draw closer to the open door of the office. She pauses to peer inside to find a blond haired human man with broad shoulders reclining on a sofa next to a pale, dark haired man clad in mage robes that are most often associated with the Circle Towers.

It is the third man who takes her breath though, and makes her forget her original intentions.

Golden skin-forever darkened by the decades he survived under the Antivan sky-graces his elven features and enhances the tattoo that resides on the left side of his face. His almond eyes of honey amber that refuse to miss a single nuance as the men speak and pale yellow hair that is bleached with streaks of ivory-no doubt a result of many hours spent in the sun-hangs loosely over his shoulder and down his back. He does not appear to be part of the discussion that is presently unfolding, content to simply lean against the wall, his arms folded over his leather cuirass, as he listens.

Next to her, the mabari wags his stunted tail ecstatically and whimpers his excitement, but a single gesture from his mistress prevents him from charging into the room. After discerning what the men are bickering about and surmising the subject to be asinine, she hardens her resolve and takes a determined step into the room.

Immediately the human men are on their feet with a flurry of shouting and arm waving, but the elf just walks over and-a deluge of tears instantly overtaking his tawny orbs and flowing down his face-tugs off her helm in one sharp motion. She offers a smile that has only ever been for him, and he freezes for a few heartbeats before his lips curl into their own awestruck version.

"Aurora," the name is uttered like a sacred prayer as it rumbles out of him, "I thought you were dead."

**Translation**

**Questo è meglio che la barca-This is better than the boat**

**Grazie sorella-thank you sister**

**Oh, and any overt/outrageous complaints you may think about voicing? Please go read my profile before lodging them.**


	2. Chapter 1

**Um, yeah. Still don't own.**

She casts off her hostile shield and tenderly clasps the hand her lover raises to cup her cheek, "Those rumors were greatly exaggerated, as you can plainly see. Since when did you start believing everything you hear Zevran? I'd have thought that you, of all people, would know better than to take anything at face value."

"Since that bastardo Enzio personally handed me your blood soaked braid as proof of your passing la mia dea," Zevran responds with a touch of heat, his eyes flitting up toward her boyish spikes and narrowing, "I killed him in a quite painful fashion for daring to desecrate you like that. Then, when Antiva began burning, I tried to find you, I swear...but the fire, it spread too fast..."

"I warned that asshole about what I was going to do to that place if he didn't release you," she declares in a flat tone that clashes with her soothing touch, "He was stupid enough not to hit me with another dose of magebane before he chopped off my hair and ran like the coward I knew him to be."

The blond warrior pauses in his incessant fussing and swivels around to gawk at his sister, "Wait a damn minute. Lynx, did you just admit that you are the one responsible for razing a full third of Antiva City to the ground? Oh Maker."

Lynx nonchalantly shrugs a shoulder and flashes a razor sharp smile, "I did give them fair warning Alistair. It's not my fault that they chose not to heed my words after Enzio told me that Zev had been put onto a slaver ship and was already en-route to Tevinter, where it would be impossible to rescue him before he was killed or experimented on."

"I don't mean to ruin the happy reunion or anything, but will we have to worry about the Crows following you here?" the other mage inquires, his voice much stronger and more confident that she ever remembers it being, "Those monsters are not known for giving up their prey without a fight."

"No fighting about it this time Jowan. With as few of the bird brains that were left after me and Zev's purge, then the citywide fire, I highly doubt that they will be dumb or suicidal enough to try to interfere again," the woman answers, finally looking away from her assassin as he leads her to the couch and sits her down between Jowan and himself.

Alistair pulls a chair closer and drops his bulk into it, "You've been gone over four years though, and that is a hell of a long time for anyone to be missing. Even Zevran returned nearly a year ago, so what took you so long?"

The elf blood is quiet a long minute before looking at her brother, "I found Gabriel and Morrigan. They were in a spot of trouble at the time and needed help getting their child somewhere safe. Unfortunately the people who were willing to help had their own bullshit I had to help sort out as well, so it took longer that I'd hoped."

"When did this happen?" her lover inquires as he vainly tries to ignore the mabari who is currently doing his damnedest to lick the skin off the Antivan's free hand.

"Right after I came back to Ferelden the first time, so about ten and a half months ago. I was still recovering from all the damage I'd taken in Antiva, making camp early and sleeping from dusk till dawn," Lynx pauses to accept a hot cup of tea from Jowan, " When I caught the scrawny bitch spying on me one night, I shocked her into unconsciousness. When she woke up, I very politely told her that I was going to skin her alive if she didn't give me an explanation real fucking fast."

The Templar waves his hand impatiently when she takes too long to drink from her mug, "Well, what was her excuse?"

"Morrigan was pregnant when we faced the archdemon. She was terrified that the child had been tainted, so she and Gabe devised a plan to cleanse its soul," she glibly replies, straddling the line between lie and truth, "They needed to reach a place on the coastal side of Tevinter in order to do this though and I went with them."

"Where are they now? Are they here?" he pushes.

"The last I saw of them, they were making preparations to travel into the Donarks, where they could raise their kid away from all of this craziness," she levels her violet gaze at her fellow Greycloak, "They are no longer a problem Alis, I swear it."

Alistair rocks back in his seat, reeling with a revelation, "Makers breath. You killed them, didn't you?"

"That child had the soul of the archdemon itself bound to its own. You would have done the same fucking thing in my place, so don't you dare judge me," Lynx angrily spits and gets to her feet,"Now, do I still have a room here or should I just be on my merry way?"

Zevran quickly grasps her hand before she takes the opportunity to storm out, "I will take you to our chambers cara, where you can rest undisturbed."

She mutters something intelligible and waves him onward while Alistair is still too dumbstruck to pull rank and stop them.


	3. Chapter 2

**I don't own any copyrighted material.**

**Any spelling mistakes are my own and I will repair them as soon as I find them.**

The lovers are silent as they enter their private quarters, which are hidden far from the every day hustle and bustle of the other Grey Wardens. Lynx scans the room and happens upon many objects that she knew had gone missing from their Antivan cottage years beforehand. She had sneaked back in hopes of finding her assassin awaiting her after the fire, but only found the modest space to be ransacked, most likely by the Crows after their capture.

Zevran, taking her silence as consent, quickly strips himself, then her, of their armor then takes her hand once more.

"This way amore." With a gentle tug on the limb, she acquiesces and he guides her to the en suite, where the waiting tub of water has already been heated with fire runes. After a quick kiss, he bids her to settle into the steaming bath first, then gracefully sinks down behind her.

He gently washes her, his lips occasionally grazing a line of tattoo here, a puckered scar there. When he is within reach of her lips though, he hesitates. "I have missed you, my wife," he purrs in his native tongue, his tawny gaze drinking in her vulnerable yet love filled expression, "I swear to you, if I had known-"

"You would have gotten yourself killed trying to stop me from exacting my vengeance," she interrupts with a kiss, her words also flowing in Antivan, "Then both of us would have been dead and it would have been for nothing. Stop worrying about it Zev, what's done is done. We are both here, together, and this-us-is all that matters. Now take me to bed and make me scream before I explode."

"Gladly," he growls, then kisses her, lifts her into his arms, and nearly runs to their destination.

Willing down his eagerness, Zevran gingerly deposits his mage on the duvet, then begins covering her with trails of kisses that only add fuel to her already raging desire. When he has exhausted that route, he uses his tongue to trace the lines and swirls of ink that encompasses the left half of her lean frame.

When his taunting mouth dextrously avoids the ever growing throb hidden between her thighs, she keens a protest and extends her arms to push him where she wants him, but he holds fast. "Tsk tsk beloved. If you try to force me again I fear that I will have to cease my ministrations altogether. You don't want that, do you?"

She growls in frustration, but shakes her head violently and moves her arms upward until her fingers touch the ornately carved headboard. He laves his tongue over one taut nipple as a sign of his approval, lingering long enough to toy with the silver ring attached to it, then shows equal attention to its aching twin.

After a second thorough tour of her physique, the elven man rises from the bed for a moment and ignores her whimpered protest. He rifles through a small box, then turns to show her a bottle filled with a soft blue liquid before returning to the bed and pouring some into one hand. Content with the amount after a few seconds, he knocks the cork back into place, then tosses the bottle aside and lifts one of her legs.

Once her foot is comfortably resting on his shoulder, Zevran quickly dribbles a bit of the oil onto his free hand and mere seconds later his lover lets out a deep moan as his fingers dig into the flesh of her calf. The scent of sugared vanilla wafts upwards, seducing her olfactory senses nearly as much as her lovers strong hands as they seek out every bump, bruise, and unpleasant ache she has and eradicates them.

Understanding now that this is how he wishes to express what turbulent emotions are assaulting him, she accepts the Antivan's sudden change of pace with a languid smile and allows herself to fall as limp as a ragdoll.

Some time later, after having been on both her back and stomach twice, the elf blood is nearly asleep when a jolt of pleasure unexpectedly races through her lower half. She opens her eyes to see his amber orbs hovering over her skin, his gaze swirling with a tempest of feelings all laid bare.

"Aurora, I need you," is all he whispers against her skin. It is enough.

"Please," is her breathless reply.

By the time the couple re-emerges to sate their rumbling bellies, most of the Keep's other occupants have long since retired to their own rooms for the night. Like young lovers they slink through the shadows, Zevran clad only in his breeches as his wife has stolen his long tunic to cover herself with. Soft echoes of their laughter and bare feet dancing lightly over stone ring through the hallway as the descend to the lower levels in search of sustenance.

They eventually make it to the kitchen and immediately begin piling food onto two trays. Spiorad, who has wearily followed them down, chooses to stay behind and aim his focus on a large bone the cooks had left for him while his mistress and her mate disappear into their secluded chambers a second time.

Too ravenous to hold a civil conversation, the assassin waits until they've each had their fill before speaking. "You didn't kill them, did you love?"

Lynx shakes her head and exhales the smoke drawn from her pipe, "No I didn't. I did help them find a working Eluvian that would take the three of them out of Flemeth's reach though."

"But didn't we kill Flemeth? Twice?" he prods after accepting the offered pipe.

"It doesn't appear to have made a difference. Flemeth is still out there running around somehow. Morrigan may be scared of the woman, but she's absolutely terrified of what is coming and how it might involve her child. It is because of her need to protect her son that I believed her," the mages stretches out and rests her head on his leg, "She is also the one who told me that you were still alive and where I could find you."

His features betray his sadness at her shorn locks as he strokes her head, "Did she ever say what she thought was coming?"

"Only that it was going to change everything," she confesses, not bothering to hide her own vexation, "After that, she hinted at some trouble brewing in Amaranthine that needed to be dealt with. It was her ardent warning that convinced me to travel through the area on my way here, but other than a few extra patrols and the occasional lone darkspawn, I could find nothing amiss. She could have been lying, or was wrong...or maybe it just hasn't happened yet."

"The Orlesian Greycloak who Alistair put in charge of Vigil's Keep has reported a recent surge of darkspawn activity," he explains before she can ask his thoughts on the matter, "I am actually set to go investigate her claims in a few days time. You are more than welcome to join me. As a matter of fact, I insist that you do."

She aims a half-hearted back slap at his stomach, "You and an Orlesian Warden? A female Orlesian Warden? I remember how enamored you were with Leliana's accent, so you bet your ass I'm coming with you."

"Ah, how I love it when you get so possessive of me," he announces proudly and leans down to kiss her.

"I have to remind everyone of who you belong to," she snickers, then gasps as his hand travels beneath the hem of her tunic.


	4. Chapter 3

**ff is screwing me around and I'm tired of their shit, so I'm officially posting on deviant art now. **

**You can find me under raven-jadewolfe**

**I don't own.**

"You can't be leaving already," Alistair fusses as Lynx swings into the saddle ahead of her assassin, "You just got home three days ago! And I know you're still mad at me!"

The hedge mage peers down at the cranky Warden Commander, "I'm not letting my husband run off without me again Alis. Besides, I've sent word to Aja and Kieran, they are sending people to Amaranthine to help take care of the problem, if there is one. I have to go to make sure that those Orlesians don't get themselves killed on Chaisnd blades. And no, I'm not mad at you anymore, you idiot. I have to do this Alistair, Zevran needs me and I need him, you have to understand that."

"Dammit Lynx," even in full plate, his shoulders noticeably droop as the Templar accepts defeat, "Alright, go if you must. But you will keep regular contact this time around or I will come after you personally. I will track you down and make you kick my ass if I don't hear from you inside of a month. Got it?"

"Crystal clear," she gives her brother a solemn nod before tugging her hood up. After a pat on the leg, Alistair takes a step back and Zevran nudges the warhorse into a lazy trot.

"How are the clansmen going to know to meet us at Vigil's Keep?" the Antivan suddenly queries a few hours later, "It would take them months to cross Ferelden in the first place and you said yourself that you've only been back on Ferelden soil a few weeks."

"I sent a message to Jade for him to meet me at the Peak a week before I set sail. I did promise to train him when I returned after all," Lynx divulges with a grin, "He and the others were just days away when I arrived, so it was a simple enough task to tell them to move on to the Vigil instead of climbing all the way up the mountain."

"Jade is with them? This could prove to be quite the adventure then," he smirks as they watch Spiorad veer off the path in hot pursuit of a wild rabbit, "I expect that you will be glad to have your own people around you again."

She wiggles in her seat until she is facing her husband and places a hand on his chest, directly over the tattoo the Chaisnd chief had bestowed upon the elf during the blight when he pledged himself to his apostate, "They're _our_ people Zevran. Thrice bound, remember? According to the Chaisnd, that puts us barely half a step from being the same person."

"Aon intinn, comhlacht amháin, amháin anam," Zevran flawlessly declares in the Chasind tongue, then changes to Antivan, "Anima gemella."

"Soulmate," she needlessly translates into common before also resorting to Anitvan, "And do not think for a second that I have not discerned the meaning of your oath by now Zevran."

He smooths his features into what would be a very believable caricature of innocence, if he were not trying to convince his own wife of the facade, "I have no idea what you mean, my goddess, unless you are referring to my promise of widespread talents that include-but are not limited to-bed warming and thoroughly delightful massages?"

"Ass."

"Yes? My wife tells me often that I have an exemplary one. Very firm, and what was the word? Oh yes, scrumptious, if she is to be believed," he retaliates, playfully rubbing a hand over one haunch, "What is your opinion?"

She rolls her eyes and yawns, pretending to be bored while he shows off, "No, you are absolutely, positively and completely an ass."

"As long as my face doesn't match my personality, yes?" he cheekily refers to her long standing threat with a throaty laugh.

"I can still fry snarky assassins extra crispy you know," she grumbles, but the act soon crumbles and she bursts into laughter along with her lover.

The seriousness of their banter waxes and wanes throughout the course of their journey while they rediscover one another after nearly two years of constant separation. They laugh, they cry, and yet there are many things left unspoken between the pair. For now.

They night they arrive, they find Vigils Keep drowning in chaos, darkspawn overrunning the courtyard while people scatter and try to beat back the creatures.

A young woman battling a hurlock notices the pair, "Run! Get as far away from here as you can, the Vigil is lost!"

Lynx raises a hand and encases the beast in a thick layer of ice, then watches Spiorad knock it over and shatter it before turning on her heel to acknowledge the human, "We are Grey Wardens, do you know who is in charge here?"

"I don't know, I'm only a recruit!" she yells in frustration and yanks her longsword out of another darkspawn, "Be careful Sers, the Chaisnd are helping the monsters!"

Zevran cleanly disposes of a pair of genlocks, then dazzles the girl with his 'come hither' smile, "The Chaisnd are here to help us ragazza. I hope that none of our allies have been injured by yourself or the other Wardens."

"Ní dhéanfaidh aon ní ach cúpla éadomhain marcanna Uncail," an elf with emerald tinted black braids and piercing green eyes announces from the shadows as he emerges, "I've been keeping an eye on her all evening, making sure that she didn't get eaten."

"You!" the recruit accuses as the elven man saunters over, "You stole my horse! And my bow!"

"Me," he impishly confirms with a mocking bow, then lifts his right arm to show the poultice bound to his forearm, "I might presently be in a spot of trouble though, dear Auntie. It seems that hurlocks really can bite through leather armor when you hit them with enough electricity to make them feel threatened."

"Dammit Jade," Lynx jumps forward, then strips the bandage away before releasing a toe curling string of curses, "It's cut right to the bone kiddo, and it's turning septic fast. You're-"

"Infected? Yes, I'm well aware of that, but thank you for stating the obvious for the other kids in the class," he swipes the sweat coursing down his face with his free hand, "Guess it's a good thing I know a few Grey Wardens then, yes? I'll be right as rain in a few hours, or I'll be dead. Not fond of being dead all that much, so I'll focus on the right as rain part, if no one minds terribly. I like rain, it's clean, it smells amazing, and for some strange reason women love to be-"

"Jade, you are rambling ragazzo," Zevran gently interjects while holding out a poultice for his lover to apply to the young man's wound, "You are already fevered nipote, you must be careful if you wish to stay lucid long enough to see this battle to its end."

The Chaisnd elf's sarcastic reply is drown out by the roar of a trio of ogres and the quintet rushes to ready themselves for the next onslaught.

**Translation-**

**aon intinn, comhlacht amháin, amháin anam -one soul, one mind, one body**

**anima gemella—soul mate**

**ragazza-girl**

**Ní dhéanfaidh aon ní ach cúpla éadomhain marcanna Uncail-Nothing but a few shallow marks Uncle**

**ragazzo-boy**

**nipote-nephew**


	5. Chapter 4

By sunrise they learn that the majority of the castle is intact, though at no small cost to the inhabitants, most of which are either dead or were taken by the talking darkspawn's minions. What survivors there are get to work almost immediately, burying their dead and appointing clean up crews to erase the signs of the nightmare they had been forced to endure.

While the civilians are otherwise occupied, Lynx and Zevran hastily prepare for the Joining ritual. Within the hour, the hedge mage regretfully offers the goblet to their old comrade Oghren, the blond mage Anders, and the Orlesian recruit Mhairi. She nearly buckles though when Zevran has to hold Jade's head aloft so that she can gingerly pour the concoction down their semi lucid nephew's throat.

Even with the tweaks Jowan has made to the mixture over the years, the relief at seeing all four people sleeping in their cots afterword is immeasurable.

The lovers finally take the time to wash away the night's gory film from their tired bodies and are enjoying a quiet meal when they are interrupted by the Seneschal, Varel.

"Ser, there are some urgent matters that we must discuss," the aging human states after bowing, "We have a prisoner in the dungeon, Voldrik has informed me that the walls of the Keep were badly damaged in the explosion, and it appears that the Queen shall be arriving shortly."

Lynx stares at him blankly for a moment, then shrugs a shoulder, "Bring me the prisoner, hire some stonemasons to get to work on the walls, and the queen can deal with the mess. Oh, and send word to the Arl that we're going to need a new staff sent down, hopefully one that is competent."

"Anything else Ser?" she is surprised to hear the lack of hostility in his tone.

She bobs her head once, "I'll be needing rooms set aside for the new Greycloaks, as soon as it can be managed. Also, inform any guards still alive and working that the Chaisnd running about the place are not here for them to play target practice with. They are friends and allies and I expect them to be treated as such."

"Yes Ser," Varel bows a second time and quickly gets to work.

When the human is out of ear shot, the Antivan swivels around and grows serious, "How shall we handle Anora? Assuming that her web of spies have not informed her of your return, that is."

"We'll tell her the truth. A clan of Chaisnd found me half dead in Antiva after I escaped the Crows. They were nursing me back to health when we were attacked by darkspawn, which forced us to take refuge in a cave. Unfortunately the cave led to the Deep Roads-where the darkspawn chased us to- and we spent many months navigating the abandoned roads, looking for a way back to the surface," his wife smoothly elaborates in his native tongue, "It was during my time in the Deep Roads that I was caught in one of those giant spider webs and the other mage of the group tried to free me by using a fire spell, which melted not only the webbing, but bits and pieces of me as well."

One of his hands extend to brush her head, "Let me guess, the short hair and burn scars will serve as your proof? Good thinking. How did you escape the Crows though? Not many can claim that they survived once, let alone twice, such as you have."

"Technically it was three times, but who's counting? Anyways, the Crows began evacuating when Antiva was set on fire. I was assigned two lower ranking enforcers who shouldn't have had any trouble keeping track of the drugged and injured woman they'd been set to watch over. I was being kept for a purpose, after all. To lure you back to the nest. Too bad the idiots didn't listen to their superiors about how resourceful I could be or the danger I posed," Lynx lets out a dark chuckle, "I managed to hide the fact that the magebane had been flushed out of my system, and they forgot to give me an extra dose when it was time to move me. I killed them as soon as we were out of the city, as and ran like hell."

He gives her a kiss and smiles, "I dare say that you've finally caught up to me love," he then switches back to common, "And here comes our first guest."

Their "guest" turns out to be none other than Nathaniel Howe, son of the late Rendon Howe.

"You killed my father!" the disgraced nobleman howls upon seeing the pair, "You killed him and chopped his head off!"

"Your father butchered Gabriel Cousland's entire family, you're damn right I killed him," Lynx retaliates with a feral grin, "The sick bastard had a dungeon full of people that he tortured for fun at the Arl's estate in Denerim, and he helped kidnap Anora for fuck's sake. Do not even try to tell me what kind of fucking person he was or I will slit your throat here and now."

The man gives her a black glare, "I know who you are. The Chaisnd witch and her Crow assassin. You murder children and disfigure women for your own amusement. Go on then, kill me. I wonder how you will manage to slime your way out of a noose this time."

"There are worse things than death out there Howe," Zevran purrs and waves a hand at the wound on the man's calf, "You were bit by a darkspawn, yes? We'll see how you feel about things in a week or so, once you have become a darkspawn yourself."

At the elf's words, the arrogant human pales alarmingly and scrambles to inspect the bite, "No, that's not possible. It can't be..."

"You're right," Lynx kneels to look at the wound herself, "Sometimes-if you are really lucky-the infection will kill you instead. I hope, for your sake, that you will also be so fortunate. I doubt it though. Oh well, we will just have to wait and find out. Have Ser Howe escorted back to the dungeons and put in a solitary cell, I'll be down periodically to chart the infections progress."

As the guards begin to pull him away, Nathaniel struggles to turn back to the mage, "Wait! How do you stop the infection? You're a Grey Warden, you have to know of a way!"

"And why should we help you?" Zevran counters, "You did come here to kill us after all."

"I can help you, this was my family's home," the man hastily confesses, "I know where the secondary vault is hidden, as well as other things."

The Wardens step closer to one another to confer.

"Think we should?" Lynx queries in Chaisnd.

Zevran glances at the man, then shrugs, "Whether he came to kill those responsible for his father's death or not, it took quite a lot of skill to make it inside of the Keep without anyone noticing. Besides, you do have a habit of making your would be assassins into faithful servants."

"I married the last one, in case you've forgotten," she barely smothers her smile, then nods, "What the hell. We can always dispose of him later, if her proves to be too much trouble."

She steps back and stared down the Howe, "The only chance you have of surviving at this point is to become a Grey Warden. The process is painful and could still kill you, though you would not become a darkspawn."

Somehow Nathaniel's suspicion still clings with ever weakening fingers, "How do I know that you are telling me the truth and not planning on using me in one of your sick rituals?"

"Do you have any other options?" the elf blood replies coldly, "Maybe you should ruminate on that in the dungeons for a bit, then we'll see how agreeable you are."

"No!" he instantly argues, straining against both his shackles and the men holding him, "I'll do it!"

"Zev, give him the cup."


	6. Chapter 5

**I own nothing copyrighted.**

**Reminder, this is now considered a secondary account. I will continue posting, but my primary focus will be my deviant art account for the foreseeable future. You can find me under raven-jadewolfe.**

Jade is awake in time to see Howe be dropped onto an empty cot in the corner. "A spare? How did that happen? Where do you keep finding these people?"

"He came here to kill the Wardens responsible for offing his daddy dearest and got a darkspawn bite for his efforts," Lynx bluntly explains while adjusting the human's body into a more comfortable position, "When he learned of his options, he decided that he didn't want to have a go at playing a darkspawn."

"Sounds like karma is in working order at the moment," the elf brushes his green tinted locks away from his face as he shuffles over and peers down at the comatose rogue, "Can he be trusted?"

"Not even a little bit," his aunt admits in Chaisnd, then gestures for him to follow her out of the room, "Chellick, Rosa, and Yuri didn't make it kiddo. Zev had found them and we tried to put them through the Joining, but their wounds...I'm sorry, I know they were your friends."

"You did what you could Aunt, that's all they-or I-could have asked for," the young mage counters, his tone thick with sadness, "They actually wanted to become part of the Lost, spending an eternity fighting monsters. Yet I am standing here instead, the only one who didn't want it. Talk about irony."

"Life's funny that way," Lynx shakes her snowy head, "Besides, more often than not, we find ourselves battling monsters of the more common variety."

A movement catches the elf blood's attention and she spins around to find a confused Mhairi gawking at them.

"What language are you speaking?" the Orlesian warrior timidly inquires after a few heartbeats of silence, "Dalish? It sounds beautiful."

The elder Greycloak can't help but chuckle at the woman's naivete, "No, it's Chaisnd. This is Dalish. Ma isala'bel ir nomin asha."

"What does that mean?" the girl prods, her eyes wide and shining with curiosity.

"It roughly translates as 'May you find much wisdom'," the apostate glibly replies while her nephew struggles to maintain a passive countenance, "Now go find the kitchens and grab something to eat because the infamous Warden appetite will be kicking in very shortly."

"Of course Ser, merci," Mhairi salutes before she can be stopped, then marches off.

"Asal deas," Jade murmurs approvingly, his eyes trained on the Orlesians rump as she disappears around the corner.

"Í a choimeád i do bríste," Lynx swats the back of his head, "You need to eat as well. Be prepared to pack away as much as your parents can, if not more."

"Yes Auntie," he swings around and cheekily ambushes her with a peck on the cheek before trotting down the hall-and out of reach, "Play nice with the other kids while I'm gone!"

The hedge mage is still fighting down her mana when Anders trudges out a few minutes later, yawning and scratching at his whiskers, "What's got your feathers all ruffled oh fearless leader?"

"Great, another jackass who thinks he's irresistible," she grumbles to herself, then peers up at the smiling mage, "Nothing. Head down to the kitchen and grab something to eat while you have the chance, the others should be awake soon."

He gives her a salacious wink, "You know, I'd be more than willing to help you relieve some of that tension you seem to be carrying around. After all, it is a subordinate's duty to keep their leader in a pleasant state of mind and I've been told that I am particularly talented when I use my tong-"

"That will not be necessary," a velvet accent drawls as arms wind around the elder Warden's waist from behind and the aroma of cloves, leather, honey and steel invades her senses, "I can take care of my wife's troubles just fine, but thank you for your gracious offer."

Anders-now every inch appearing to be a caged rabbit-pales slightly as he takes a step back and nods, "Of course Ser, my apologies."

Zevran's lean form quakes with suppressed mirth, though he only allows it to bubble over after the human has retreated, "I did not mean to intrude dea, but I am almost certain that you would have regretted killing a new recruit once we began our hunt for the darkspawn."

"Dammit, you're right," she grudgingly admits as he playfully nips at her neck then relinquishes his hold, "I still have to check on Oghren and Nathaniel, see how they're progressing. Maybe fortune will smile down on me and they will have awakened and murdered each other already."

"You don't mean that cara, Oghren always shares his best spirits with you," her assassin snickers at her glare, "I know you don't drink it, but it's the thought that counts, yes? I'll see to the other children while you're busy. And do not trouble yourself with sending a missive to our illustrious commander, I did so while you were dealing with Howe."

"It's not the alcohol that has ever bothered me...it's the smell. You'd figure that Felsi would make him bathe every once in a while," Lynx pauses at the door, "Then again, that is probably the reason he skipped out on her and that kid. Too clean for his taste."

Inside the chambers, Oghren's steady snores resonate against the stone. The elf blood is unsurprised to discover that not only is Nathaniel awake, but is vainly attempting to stare a hole in the steel cuff that is presently binding him to his cot.

"Is this truly necessary?" the disgraced noble snipes, indicating the shackle with a shake of his arm, "I gave you my word, did I not?"

She waves a hand, unlocking the restraint, "What did you honestly expect me to do, especially after hearing you admit that you came here with the intent to slaughter Grey Wardens? The last time someone trusted a Howe at their word, a lot of people died. I would not shame Gabriel by allowing that to happen a second time."

"You know Gabriel? Gabriel Cousland?" Nathaniel's sharp tone softens with concern, "What of him and his brother Fergus? Are they-"

"Gabe died on the roof of Fort Drakon, delivering the fatal blow to the archdemon, and Fergus was left crippled by an injury he sustained during the blight but has returned to his home in Highever," she briskly responds, "The rest of the Couslands were killed by your father and his lackeys before the battle of Ostagar. Now, go down and eat, you'll need your strength for what is to come."

"And what is coming?"

Lynx levels her violet gaze to his own-thoughtful for a moment-then she shrugs a shoulder, "No one is really sure, but do I know that it's going to involve a fuckton of darkspawn and we're currently down over a dozens Wardens, so be ready to work your ass off."

Shocked by her tone and colorful language, the man gives her a mute nod and makes his way out of the room.

Finally left alone with her thoughts, the hedge mage tilts her head to stare at the ceiling and blows out a frustrated sigh, "I'm going to kill Alistair for this."

**Translation-**

**Ma isala'bel ir nomin asha—You are in need or much more knowledge girl**

**Asal deas-nice ass**

**Í a choimeád i do bríste-Keep it in your trousers**


	7. Chapter 6

"So of course she screams like she's seen the archdemon and starts scrambling for her clothes while I just grin at the Templar and ask if he'd like to join us," Anders is regaling the dining hall when Lynx finally joins the group, "The entire time I'm standing there in all my glory, not a care in the world, while his eyes are bugging out of his head. When finally he got the stones to take a gander downward, I gave him a wink and informed him that I didn't need magic to enlarge my assets, unlike some other mages I knew."

Jade laughs at the human in between alternating bites of chicken and cornbread slathered with sweet butter, "Let me guess, the Templar turned ten shades of red then ran like his arse was on fire?"

The blond mage points a finger at the elf and winks, "You got it. Luck was with me though, and it only took a few months for me to get my hands on him. Hands, lips...damn, I actually miss him sometimes."

"Because he was such a good boy?" Lynx impishly queries after taking a seat beside her nephew and refilling her mug of tea.

"Hell no, he was so virginal that he nearly fainted the first time I grabbed his cock, which was gorgeous by the way. Actually did faint though when he opened his eyes long enough to see me on my knees in that broom closet, my nose buried in his short and curlies," Anders chortles at the memory, then shakes his head, "No, I miss him because any night he'd stay with me, he would bring me breakfast the next morning, even if I was on lockdown for one infraction or another. He was a Templar who learned to think for himself, under my tutelage, so it's truly a pity that he died when Uldred pulled his shit."

"Hmmm, I guess I'd miss somebody too, if they brought me breakfast every morning," Jade states in a wistful tone, then mischievously grins, "But there is no way I'd tie myself down just for the sake of a good meal every now and then, even if the sex was spectacular."

"Yeh don't stay fer the food boy," Oghren belches as he stumbles over and pours his bulk onto a bench, "Yeh choke down the grub they make and pray to yer ancestors that they let you make the two backed nug on account of bein' such a good boy an' cleanin' yer plate."

"My furry friend, it is truly a wonder that your marriages have been so rocky, with that kind of logic being implemented," Zevran exchanges a sly smirk with his wife before confessing the bad news, "The guards have spotted Anora's entourage on the horizon, they shall be here by nightfall if no unforeseen circumstances arise."

The elder Warden runs a tattooed hand over her face, then rises from the table, "Her servants will have to make due with one of the less damaged cottages tonight. Anora too, if the mess inside here is too much for her delicate sensibilities. Someone go tell that Captain erm, Garble, Gavel-"

"Garevel?" Mhairi offers hopefully, her cheeks staining pink.

"Yeah, that one," Lynx bobs her head, "Garevel is going to have to inform the guard that they will be running on double shifts until her Royal Pain in the Ass is safely out of our hair. And makes sure that he is forwarding the payroll to the Arl, since we're technically doing his job for him. We're not a charity and can barely feed ourselves as things stand."

"I'll get right on it Ser," the woman leaps from her chair and lopes off in search of the Captain of the Guard.

"You are a shrewd woman Commander," Nathaniel sounds almost prideful in his assessment.

"Stop kissing this Commander's ass, it will get you nowhere you will enjoy," the woman in question calls out as he slips into the armory.

"Lieutenant Commander," Zevran corrects absently, causing his wife to swivel on her bare heel and gape at him.

"What the hell did you just say? When did this shit happen and why in the fuck did no one bother to tell me?"

Her assassin serenely waits for her rant to lose its steam before tugging an envelope from his vest and hands it to her, "Because Alistair was well aware that you would react somewhat unfavorably at the idea of a promotion dea. At my request, he left it to me as to when you would be informed. With the impending arrival of Anora though, it became pertinent information."

"Fuck...well maybe Ser Moneybags can dole out a few coin then, at least enough to make those repairs that Voldrik told us we needed to get finished as soon as possible," Lynx resists the urge to beat her head off of one of the pillars they pass as she finishes reading the letter, "My first fucking day back on the job and I'm already starting to miss being tortured by the Crows."

Zevran hastily steps up to hand out marching orders to the others, then snakes his arms around her once they are free from prying eyes, "We could send word to Alistair that this issue needs his personal intervention, then-if you so wished- we could conveniently disappear once he arrives."

"I'm not falling for that spiel twice in this lifetime marito," she scoffs as she buries her face in the curve of his neck, "Besides, Jade would no doubt follow us anywhere we would choose to go-if only to enforce my promise to teach him-so I don't think we would have much peace."

The elf's chest rumbles with a quiet chuckle, "True la mia anima. Just try to remember that this Warden business will not trouble us forever if we do not wish it. We helped to end the blight and destroyed an archdemon, so any other feats we accomplish will be by our whim alone. We have given them enough of our time, our blood, and our lives to satisfy even the most bloodthirsty warrior."

"The duty that cannot be foresworn," the mage morosely utters a single phrase of the oath taken by every Greycloak during their Joining, "No matter how far we run il mio amore, it will find us. I learned this a long time ago. Running away just makes it bite you on the ass that much harder when it finally catches up."

"I know that you do not wish to speak of such things, since it causes so much pain, but I need you to tell me the truth now Aurora," with a gentle touch, he traces the black lines adorning the left side of her neck. Lines that perfectly match the ink gracing his own features, "Does this fatalistic attitude have anything to do with how the Crows found us?"

"Of course it has something to do with it Zevran," she chokes out with no small amount of pain as her eyes well up and overflow, "Those bastards laughed as they tore apart the-the body of our daughter while I laid there, still bleeding from her birth! It's my fault she didn't survive, that I was not strong enough to save her and protect her. Perhaps it was my punishment for trying to make a life outside of the Wardens...but it is their fault that we had no time to mourn her. I won't take the blame for that one. I didn't just burn Antiva for you, I made that fucking city her funeral pyre. The point is, they committed an atrocity simply because of who we are. We can never run far enough to escape it..."

He tenderly presses a kiss to her forehead, "It was not your fault Aurora. Braska, you could not have predicted that bambino tripping and knocking you down those stairs any more than you could tell me what a tree thinks. It was not your fault Lómhara was born too soon to survive, so never think it again. I forbid it."

"I've lost both a son and a daughter now Zev, what else am I supposed to believe?" she whimpers, fresh drops cascading down her face, "I don't give life, I take it. Even from my own children. It seems to me that I can only ever get two things right. Death and destruction."

"You know that is not true," her husband argues as she shrinks out of his embrace and turns her back to him, "Look at us, we are still right, still together in spite of archdemons, Templars, Crows, and even the damned Grey Wardens. Aurora, you do a great deal more than spread death and destruction."

She swipes at her wet face in annoyance and half turns to gaze at him, "Like what? Tell me one thing that I haven't fucked up yet."

He reaches out and takes her hand, "You spared my life when you could have, should have taken it. Then you gave me a new one that was filled with purpose. You gave me your heart, even when we were both terrified of the repercussions. You allowed me to choose my own fate rather than wrenching the decision from my hands. You gave me a family among the Chaisnd, and another within the Grey Wardens. And most of all, you gave me Lómhara, my beautiful daughter. I may not be able to hold her, but she will always be my child. Our child. No one can take that from either of us."

"Zev, I-"

"Auntie Lynx, the queenly type person will be here within the hour," Jade interrupts, throwing the door wide as he saunters into the room, "I swear to the gods, these barbarians have the worst sense of distance. And direction. And taste. And fa-"

The woman smacks him upside the back of his head, "I get it, stop rambling. Zevran, think we should..."

"Go out to greet her? I believe that is the proper procedure dea," he acquiesces with a bob of the head, his tone forcefully calm as he grabs her cloak and tosses it to her, "This way both of you will immediately know where you stand in regards to what has recently transpired."

"Annoying fucking nobles," the hedge mage grumbles, happy to redirect her tumultuous emotions towards something tangible, then throws her threadbare cloak over her shoulders before trudging out to meet the flighty monarch.

**Translation-**

**marito-husband**

**la mia anima-my soul**

**il mio amore-my love**

**Lómhara—gaelic for precious pronounced loam (low+m) harah (like sarah)**


	8. Chapter 7

"That man is a wanted apostate and a murderer!" a female Templar is bawling as Lynx crosses the ravaged courtyard, "I demand he be handed over for execution!"

Correctly surmising that Anders is the target of the woman's ire, the elf blood moves to block the fanatic's view of the new Warden, "This man is a Grey Warden Ser, so I suggest that you change your attitude before I decide to do it for you."

"You can't speak to me like that!" the hag shrieks while angrily bouncing in her saddle.

"As Lieutenant Commander of the Ferelden Grey Wardens, I can talk to you however the fuck I see fit when it concerns wild allegations against members of my order," Lynx fires back heatedly before turning and dipping her head at the queen, "As good as it is to see you again Highness, I'd suggest you dismiss the bitch before you end up with a Templar cooked extra crispy. We have had a bad couple of days and none of us are in the mood to deal with superstitious idiots who fling unsubstantiated claims at our people."

Anora's lips curl with a hint of a smile as she dismisses the Templar, then looks at the older woman, "As brutally honest as I remember Lt Commander. I must admit my surprise though, seeing you again, considering the rumors that drifted out of Antiva after their port and nearly a third of their city was razed to the ground."

Lynx recounts the tale she'd spun for her husband as she leads the Ferelden queen into the damaged castle. Anora tries to dissect the other woman's story, but the mages tale is as flawless as a polished jewel.

Unable to find any cracks big enough to chip at, the human chooses to change the subject, "Tell me what happened here."

She listens intently while Lynx, Zevran, and the others recount the events of the darkspawn attack, including their encounter with the talking darkspawn.

"How can I help you?" the monarch's sense of duty kicks in after the Greycloaks go quiet.

"We need money and supplies," the mage instantly responds and gestures towards some of the damaged buildings, "As you can see, our predecessors did their best with what was afforded to them, but it wasn't enough. The darkspawn tunneled their way under the walls of the keep, which is how they got in, so we have to investigate that, the surrounding area, and most likely all of the ruins we find between here and the bannorn. We won't get very far at the moment though, with every coin in our coffers being drained by the repairs alone."

"I will do what I can," Anora agrees, then her face twists with a frown, "With our efforts to build smaller towers for the mages and aiding the elves in their emigration to the Hinterlands, most of our excess funds have already been spoken for. I'll have the accountants go over the numbers again and see if we'll be able to send a few more sovereigns in your direction. Is there anything else you wished to discuss before I go freshen up for dinner?"

The hedge mage shakes her head, "Nothing that can't wait for now Highness. I'll see you at dinner."

After escorting Anora to her room, the couple slips into the chambers Varel had set aside for them earlier.

"Something has changed about that woman," Lynx muses after she washes and dons her soft black leathers, "I can't put my finger on it though. Thoughts?"

Her assassin flashes a patch of rippled abdomen as he pulls a mint green tunic over his head, "She is a woman in love, you can tell by her smile...and the way she was walking. That stiff legged gait was definitely caused by more than a long carriage ride dea."

"Well, maybe getting laid will make Anora more amicable to our plight," his wife raises her mace and dagger end to end, then murmurs the words to fuse them back into her staff, "There. I told you that enchantment would work."

Zevran smiles up at his wife as he sits and tugs on his boots, "I never doubted your skill, only the delusional mage whom you learned the spell from." He stops to tuck a few blades into hidden sheathes that are scattered across his body before offering his arm, "Let us go dine with a queen mi amore, and we can even play a little game while we eat."

She lifts one pale eyebrow as she takes his arm, "Which game would that be?"

"Which man in Anora's entourage is responsible for the regina's defrosting?" he smirks, "Because when we find him, I'm going to arrange a gift of thanks on behalf of the citizens of Ferelden."

"You are an evil man Zevran Arainai."

The elf leans over and kisses her thoroughly before flashing her his most charming smile, "You wouldn't have me any other way."

**Translation-**

**regina-queen**


	9. Chapter 8

"So Queenie, which one of these handsome, virile bodyguards of yours do we have to thank for your gorgeous smile and easy disposition this fine evening?" Jade bluntly inquires from down the table as dinner nears its end, "We're going to need to know who to smack around if they mistreat you."

The blond woman turns an icy glare towards the young Chaisnd mage, "I'm sure that I have no idea what you mean-and even if I did-it would be none of your business, regardless of your protective overtures."

He beams her a bright smile and shrugs, ever immune to her hostility, "Well, I also wanted to thank them for taking care of your needs and putting that stunning smile on your face. You've had to endure so much these last years and deserve some small bit of happiness that is just for you, not the entire nation. You can't fault me for wanting to see you content."

An older guard with the skin of fine Orlesian chocolate steps forward and rests his gauntlet clad hand on the high back of the queen's chair, "Her Majesty has given you an answer Ser MacKieran, please do your people justice and let the matter rest."

"And we have a winner," Zevran whispers to his mage while Jade manages to pull off a somewhat graceful apology.

Before Lynx can answer her lover, one of the Vigil's guards materializes at her shoulder, an envelope in hand. She open the parchment and silently scans the missive, then stands and looks to the monarch, "My apologies Highness, but an urgent matter has come up that Constable Aidan has asked our assistance with."

"What is the issue?" Anora gently demands, her features flickering with concern.

"From how this letter sounds, it seems that a Lord Bensley's eldest daughter was kidnapped from their estate nearly a week ago and the family wasn't able to discern any information on her whereabouts until today, when the Constable received a ransom note. The Amaranthine guard has requested that Grey Wardens personally oversee the exchange in order to keep things nice and polite," Lynx cringes inwardly at the madatory side trek during such a tense time, "The Arl himself has authorized an impressive payment for our services and since we are presently in no condition to refuse such a bountiful windfall..."

"Understood Lt Commander," the woman replies, though Lynx can see the gears begin to turn in the monarch's head, "I will pray that the girl be returned to her family safely. Do you require the assistance of my personal retinue?"

Lynx shakes her head, "Not tonight Highness, let them rest. We shall be on the road a fair few days though, so I will understand if you do not wish to tarry and be inconvenienced by all of the repair work going on."

Anora nods and bids the Wardens farewell as they file into the armory to collect what provisions they may need on their excursion.

When things are in order, the group makes a quick stop at the stables to gather their mounts-and a warpony for Oghren-then ride out into the rapidly encroaching darkness.

"Did the Arl really offer to pay us for doing this?" Anders dubiously queries, needing something to do other than coo and fawn over the now drowsing kitten Lynx had found playing in Zevran's horse's oats.

"No he didn't, but Aidan wrote that we were welcome to the ransom money if we disposed of the girls captors," the elder Warden admits, "I just said that to motivate Anora. She hates being outshined by any acts of charity those impetuous nobles cook up, so I know by the time we get back she'll have dredged up a few extra sovereigns for our cause."

"Look at you, the sly businesswoman, " Jade says in an approving tone as he urges his steed to match the pace Zevran's has set, "So how much is this ransom Auntie?"

"The sack the private handed me feels like it holds about two hundred or so worth of coin," Zevran declares, causing Anders to make choking sounds behind them.

"So we're jus' killin' em' then?" Oghren asks from his tenuous perch even farther back.

"Only if they truly need it," the mage surmises after a moments contemplation, "If these are just desperate people looking for a way to feed themselves and their families, we will simply scare the shit out of them and send them on their way...probably down to Denerim. The construction crews are always looking for workers, from what Alistair had said."

"Listen to you, so grown up now," Jade dabs at his eyes with the corner of his cloak and sniffles, "I'm so proud."

"You're big enough to survive a lightning bolt now boy," his aunt warns in spite of the grin teasing at the corners of her mouth, "Don't think for a second that I won't fry your ass if you piss me off."

"I'm too lovable and adorable to be fried," he confidently retaliates, sitting a little straighter in his saddle, "Besides, you wouldn't want to deal with me complaining about the burns in my clothes and armor for weeks afterwords."

"I'm no Seer, but after hearing you talk to her like that, I am most certainly seeing a seat full of fireweed rapidly coming up in your future," Anders deadpans before pulling his hood over his eyes, "Someone wake me when we get there...or when the commander finally tires of Jade's antics and turns him into a ferret or something."

The green haired elf glares at the other mage in mock hurt, "You just can't count on your fellow apostates these days."

"Bite me."

"Ooh, kinky. Anders, I had no idea that you were such a naughty boy," Jade leans over and flutters his eyelashes at the human, "I think I like it."

"Oh Maker," Anders sighs, realizing that he has just met his match in the young Chaisnd mage.


	10. Chapter 9

Dawn finds the Greycloaks hiding on a tree covered ridge line, watching the bandits below wander around their camp through a trio of spyglasses.

"Commander, they got little nuggets wit' em'," Oghren points out a group of dirty children playing under a wagon, "What kinda bandits bring their kids along wit' 'em?"

"Stupid ones," Nathaniel deadpans even as he switches out his poisoned quiver of arrows for ones merely coated with a sleep draught, "Or they are more desperate than we originally believed."

"I don't know if I would call them stupid, maybe they've started the little ones on their bandit training?" Anders fleetingly jokes before sobering, "Desperate appears to be more the case. I might be a lot of things Lynx, but a child killer isn't one of them."

The elder Warden hands her spyglass to her husband and scoots back to sit on a rock, "We won't do anything to the kids unless there are zero options available to us."

"With your colorful history-" Mhairi chimes in but hastily locks her jaws and returns to spying on the kidnappers under the elf blood's irritated glare.

"Contrary to what appears to be popular belief, I do not go around chopping up kids for shits and giggles," Lynx snarls at the Orlesian, then sighs and wearily rubs her face, "Look, there are about a dozen armed bandits down there and nearly double that unarmed. I also counted close to eighteen children playing under the wagons. Anders, Mhairi, you get those kids and the other noncombatants out of the line of fire. Jade, I want you to back them up while Zev, Oghren, and I take out the rest."

"Heh, jus' like old times commander," the dwarf chuckles in anticipation and reaches for his ax.

Anders opens his mouth to say something, but only a muffled yelp escapes when Jade pinches the other mage on the rump, "Come on handsome, time to play."

"Just promise that you will be gentle with me Jade. I'm just a delicate mage and bruise easily," Anders taunts with mock innocence as he tucks Pounce into a pocket hidden in the folds his robes.

The group's subdued laughter is enough to dissipate the worst of the tension and within minutes the sound of weapons clashing rings through the morning air.

It doesn't take long for the seasoned warriors to discern that Lynx's instincts were correct. The so called bandits are indeed a number of displaced refugees who have taken to highway robbery-and now kidnapping-in order to feed their families.

With Eileen Bensley and the bandit leader, Mosley, nearly on their knees as they beg for assistance in passing through the "haunted" Wending Wood, the Grey Wardens finally agree to escort them at least half of the way to Denerim.

Unfortunately for them, this leads to their encounter with psychotic Dalish apostate Velanna as well as a brief confinement by the mastermind behind the intelligent darkspawn, who calls itself the Architect.

"Well Auntie, at least traveling with you isn't boring," Jade lets out a tired laugh as they wearily follow the road that leads to the Keep.

"Oh yes, talking darkspawn, brainwashed Grey Wardens, and hungry dragons. What fun!" Anders grumbles, first aiming a disgusted look at their newest recruit before swiping at his filthy clothes, "Why in the Black City did we agree to escort them through the Wending Wood? Whose idea was that?"

"But we also know what the darkspawn are after now," Mhairi defends while vainly rubbing at a large bloodstain that still glitters with silverite dust, "Perhaps that is what the Maker intended for us to glean from all of this."

"That's easy for you to say Orlesian, a dragon didn't bite you on the arse," Nathaniel simpers as he hobbles along, using Spiorad for support.

"Oh gods, Creators, and ancestors, can everyone stop whining for five fucking minutes?" Lyns snaps and aims a finger at the Vigil, which is now in sight, "We're almost home and I'd rather have a little peace and quiet before throwing myself into the shitstorm that I know is waiting for me there."

"You work for the shemlen," Velanna sniffs, her nose pointed to the sky, "A true Dali—agh!"

The haughty elementalist is on the ground-body convulsing as the electricity wracks her body with agonizing pain-when Lynx leans over her to growl, "I am not in the fucking mood to deal with your self righteous bullshit Velanna, so shut your gods damned yap or I swear that I am going to sit on you and stitch your high and mighty Dalish mouth closed. You are the one who demanded to come along and join the Grey Wardens, not the other way around. That means you will abide by my rules or you will have your ass handed to you. Is that clear?"

The elven mage gives a shaky nod of the head, then picks herself up out of the dirt when the elder Warden takes a step back. Her expression screams every single thing she so desperately yearns to verbalize, but her self preservation seems to kick in at the last second and she mutely falls in line as the comander begins walking once more.

Behind the group, Anders grumpily hands Jade a gold sovereign, which the green haired elf pockets with a smug grin.


End file.
